Monday, February 18, 2013

Tuesday Tales - The Spider

Here is my latest Tuesday Tales. The prompt is the word "spider". To read the rest of the short stories from some fine authors, go to the Tuesday Tales web site.


The Spider
By Elizabeth Black

I slouched on the sofa, finishing off a Sam Adams IPA. My other hand was buried deep in a bowl of popcorn, me not knowing the fright I was about to get. Ah, this was the life! My girlfriend was on the phone in the kitchen while I watched "Zombieland". Nothing could beat a lazy Saturday watching a horror movie. The kid Columbus just gunned down Bill Murray when I felt something crawl up my leg.

I looked down and saw the spider. Eight beady little eyes stared at me. They were flat, glazed over, black, like a doll's eyes. The legs were scarier - hairy and as long as pretzel sticks. I leaped off that couch when the reptilian part of my brain kicked in. There was no time for reason. I was pure adrenalin and instinct. Popcorn burst around the room as if a tasty fragmentation grenade exploded in my lap.

"Aaaaaaiiiiii!! Aaaah!!" I couldn't muster English at this point. I was too freaked out. That sucker was huge! I smacked at my "Slayer" t-shirt, trying to bat the thing away. It leaped from my shoulder and disappeared behind me.

"Steve! What? What's wrong?" Lisa raced into the room, eyes wide with concern.

"Spider... spider..." I gasped, out of breath with fright and disgust.

She frowned at the site of popcorn all over the rug, on the couch, in the lamp, in my hair, on her afghan... "Jesus Christ, look at this mess! Kill it with a magazine. I'm on the phone. Keep it down." She turned away from me, heading back to the kitchen. "And clean up that popcorn! I'm not doing it. Sheesh..." Before I could wheeze a reply she retreated into the kitchen.

I composed myself, and inspected the couch. Nothing under the cushions. Nothing around the back or the arms. Maybe I imagined it was as big as a dinner plate. It was pretty close to my face. Forced perspective must have kicked in.

I scooped up the popcorn and put it back into the bowl. The rug was clean. I wasn't about to toss out perfectly good popcorn. I sat back down on the sofa, popcorn bowl in my lap, and got into watching Woody Harrelson make a fool of himself, not realizing I was about to outdo him. Again.

About five more minutes into the movie I felt something tickling my arm. I reached over to scratch when I saw that fucking monster again, crawling down my bicep.

Popcorn flew again. I shrieked like a little girl. I leaped up so fast from the couch the beast catapulted from my arm to land somewhere behind some boxes. I wasn't about to go looking for it.

Lisa raced into the living room, looking at me with a thundercloud obscuring her face. "I told you to keep it down! I'm on the phone!" She tapped her foot with impatience. "It's just a spider. Kill it, for Christ's sake."

"You don't understand. This isn't an itsy bitsy spider. It's a Godzilla spider. Might be one of those wolf spiders. You should see it. It's huge! It growled at me."

"Now you're just making shit up."

"I swear I'm not!" Before I could answer she retreated to the kitchen again. In a few seconds, she returned with a rolled up National Enquirer, which somehow seemed fitting. "Give it a smack with this. Just clean up the mess when you're done. And stop being such a baby. It's only a spider. It's not going to kill you."

"You didn't see it..."

She stalked back to the kitchen. If I had a tail it would have retreated between my legs. I was embarrassed, but I knew what I saw. This monster was revenge for all the legs I tore off of Daddy Long Legs when I was a kid. Once again, I scooped up the popcorn, but having lost my appetite, I sat the bowl on the couch next to me. All the excitement made me thirsty, so I walked to the kitchen. Lisa had rung off, and she was fixing herself a bowl of ice cream. I grabbed another beer and returned to the living room. One glance at the coffee table told me everything I needed to know.

The spider crouched there, staring at me. Daring me to challenge it. I wasn't about to let it win. This was "High Noon", and I was Gary Cooper.

"Lisa..." I whispered. "It's back."

"Grow up. Smack it with the magazine."

"You don't understand. Come look at it."

She stomped to the open doorway and glanced where I pointed. When she saw it, she blanched as white as her Vanilla Bean ice cream.

"I'm sorry I doubted you. Yup, that's a wolf spider alright."

"What do we do?"

"I have an idea." She tip-toed through the kitchen into our bedroom and came back with a can of hair spray and her Bic lighter. Without saying another word, she crept into the living room with me cowering behind her like a little sissy boy. The spider didn't move. It stared at us with those eight eyes, legs twitching the closer we got. I leaned to one side to get a better look at it. It leaned to the left, following my movements. I leaned to the right. It twitched a few steps to the right.

The little bastard was mocking me.

Lisa held out her arm holding the hair spray and held her lighter in front of the nozzle. I held my breath, knowing what was coming.  When she lit the lighter and sprayed, the hairspray flared like a blowtorch, setting the spider on fire. I swear I heard it scream. It didn't die right then, though. Of course not.

No, it ran across the coffee table, in flames, setting the "National Enquirer" and a few napkins on fire! I grabbed a throw pillow and smacked out the flames as it raced across the carpet, scorching the carpet in its wake. All I could hear were my screams and Lisa's laughter.

As if things weren't bad enough, it climbed up the drapes, still on fire, and the drapes burst into flames! Lisa smacked at the drapes with the other throw pillow as I beat the living hell out of what was left of that spider. It fell to the floor but twitched and writhed. It wouldn't die! So I grabbed a King James Bible from the bookcase and slammed it atop the beast. Things finally came to a standstill.

I lifted the book. Gooey spider guts stretched like taffy from the hardback cover. I felt my popcorn and beer burble to my throat, but I swallowed hard to keep it down. Lisa couldn't stop laughing, and it miffed me that she got so much mirth from my desperate situation.

"It's not funny," I whined, and then started laughing out of sheer tension release.

"You ruined the Bible my mom gave me." She giggled.

"Like you read it." I said as I dropped the book back onto the floor. "I'm not touching it. It's gross. You torched it. You deal with it."

She wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me on the lips. She tasted of chocolate fudge sauce and Coca Cola. "You big baby," She grinned at my discomfort. "I'll clean it up if you finish scooping me some ice cream."

"Deal. And don't you dare tell your friends about this."

"Cross my heart!" She crossed her fingers in front of her stomach in full view of me, knowing I was both embarrassed and spooked. I also knew she'd be on the phone in minutes telling her best friend Joyce about me and The Hairy, Eight-Eyed Beast From Hell. I loved her, but I was very embarrassed over being so chicken-shit in front of her. Even if the spider was the size of a Buick.

I checked the couch cushions and beneath the couch before I sat back down on it. For the rest of the night, my arms and neck itched as I imagined that spider crawling all over me. I had to give it to her. The tactical response blowtorch was a touch of genius. I don't blame her for telling all her friends about my ordeal. If I had MacGyvered a weapon like that, I'd brag too.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Welcome, Swept Away Valentine's Day Blog Hoppers!

Welcome, blog hoppers! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm hosting a contest to win a free erotic book. Details at the end of this post.

Why do something mundane on Valentine's Day like honor your sweetie with gifts of flowers, boxed chocolates, a fancy dinner, champagne, sex toys, and a little roll between the sheets to top off the night? Do something different!

You're seen these things in zoos. They're big. They hiss. They make the Zanti misfits look like fruit flies.

Roaches have real character. They are resilient. Tenacious. Creative. Prolific! Resourceful and loyal. Those are great qualities in any mate. You can now tell your honey bunny he or she is as sexy as a roach!

So now instead of greeting each individual roach with a "WTF IS THAT?" you can call it Tootsie Wootsie or Sugar Bear. All you need to do is give a $10 donation to the Bronx Zoo and you get to name a really cool Madagascar hissing cockroach after your soulmate. You'll even get a certificate of honor. How cool is that? According to the Bronx Zoo web site, "Your $10 donation helps WCS conserve species big and small, beautiful and damned. With your support, we'll continue to do our work saving wildlife in the forests of Madagascar and throughout the world's most majestic wild places."

Forget the chocolates and roses. Name one of these bugs after your true love, help support the Bronx Zoo, and buy some erotic books to end the night on a high note. Try my erotic fairy tales "Trouble In Thigh High Boots" and "Climbing Her Tower".


I'm giving away a copy of "Trouble In Thigh High Boots", my erotic version of Puss In Boots! To win, just leave a comment telling me about your honey who is lucky enough to get a Madagascar hissing cockroach named after them. Make sure you leave your email in comments so I may contact you if you win. Write your email as follows: Your Name AT Blahdeblah DOT com. I'll select the lucky winner after the blog hop ends. Good luck to all who enter.

And now, information about both erotic fairy tales:


This isn't your mother's Puss In Boots.

This erotic version of Puss In Boots, "Trouble In Thigh High Boots" is a story packed with hot, sexy, body-humping adult fairy tale erotica.

"Trouble in Thigh High Boots is a delightfully creative retelling of the Puss in Boots tale. It is a tale that has been told myriad times, but never in such a wonderfully imaginative way. The characters are enchanting, and the story flows beautifully. The love scenes are sizzling."
-- Hitherandthee of Night Owl Reviews

WARNING: Tita isn't your run of the mill Puss In Boots. She's a cat shapeshifter who turns into a mouth-wateringly sexy human woman with a sex drive to match. This story includes M/F, F/F, M/F/M/F, light bondage, and lactation. This erotic fairy tale will get you hot in all the right places. Definitely for only 18 years and over.

You may find buy links and an excerpt at the page linked at the top of this web site.


This isn't your mother's Rapunzel.

This erotic version of Rapunzel, "Climbing Her Tower" depicts Rapunzel as a voracious woman who discovers the joys of kinky sex with a sexy prince with a few unusual kinks of his own. This story includes BDSM, M/F, M/F/F, virgin fantasy, and erotic shaving. You'll get so hot you'll want to let your hair down as well! Let Rapunzel and her prince take you on the sexual ride of a lifetime. Absolutely only for 18 years and over.

""Climbing Her Tower" is an erotic twist to the fairy tale Rapunzel. I sure love a good fairy tale and this hot and steamy tale doesn't disappoint."
-- Beverly at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews

"Climbing Her Tower has all that and more. It is the story of Rapunzel told with a bit of a BDSM twist."
-- Hitherandthee from Night Owl Reviews

WARNING: Rapunzel isn't sweet and innocent. In this fairy tale erotica, she tires of being a virgin and craves the touch of Prince Richard's hands all over her body. Although she begins naive, she blossoms with sexual excitement under the watchful eye of her prince, who introduces her to BDSM, erotic shaving, and deep penetration. He leaves her wanting more, and you will want more too!

You may find buy links and an excerpt at the page linked at the top of this web site.

Welcome, Vampire Bite Blog Hoppers!

Welcome to the Vampire Bite Blog Hop!

When did vampires become romantic heros and heroines? When I was growing up, vampires didn't sparkle. They weren't sexy. They were undead, ugly things that stank of rotting meat and that coppery flavor of flowing blood. I was used to Bela Lugosi, not Bella and Edward. Even Christopher Lee was frightening and imposing despite being a very attractive Dracula. Lee and Peter Cushing made one hell of a great team. Monster v. Hero! Classic tales of good v. evil. Those two were much more charismatic and powerful than the likes of Chuck Norris, who doesn't hold a candle to them.

For the record, Peter Cushing is my favorite actor. I found the man to be delightful, classy, and sexy as hell. From what I understand, no one had a bad thing to say about him. He was apparently a delight to know and work with.

I think the romantic vampire may be traced back to some extent to Bram Stoker, but especially to Anne Rice. Her Lestat was a very romantic and alluring creature. That depiction influenced me as well as many other horror and paranormal romance writers. I have written only one vampire story since I think vamps are overdone these days. My story is not a horror story. It's an erotic romance. Vamps are very popular in erotic romances, and have been for decades.

Vampires are very seductive regardless of whether or not they are sexy or repulsive. They are like cobras seducing a mouse. The mouse can't help itself by being mesmerized by the cobra. It is doomed. Vampires, like cobras, are charismatic. They are attractive to even the most immune humans. You'll see a vampire close in on its victim without the effort taken by creatures like werewolves. 

My vampire Amelia in my short story "Like A Moth To A Flame" is this newfangled type of vampire. Willingly giving your blood to another being is a very erotic and intimate act, but being a bloodsucker does have its disadvantages. The wrong blood type can taste terrible. Blood stains your teeth. A high alcohol blood level can have you weaving as you walk. Don't even talk to me about anemia and AIDS. Amelia describes her normal, day-to-day routine as she prepares to attend an art show given by her lover's wife. Yes, you read that right. She's out to seduce the woman who sees her as her mortal enemy, and this woman doesn't even know Amelia is a vampire. When she discovers Amelia's true nature, it's too late. She's caught in the cobra's grasp, and the cobra can do whatever she wants with her prey. And prey she does.

Amelia emerged from her hot shower. Her skin shone, warm and rosy. The scent of peppermint shampoo and cassis bath gel wafted in the steam that flowed out of the bathroom door.

She had already eaten for the evening. She’d found a drunken Goth who had stumbled out of a club, and she’d overtaken him in an alley. She hated Goths. They were an insult to her kind. His blood wasn’t the best she had ever had. He must have been A negative. A negative blood tended to have a sharp sour quality to it. Maybe it was the cheap booze he drank that made his blood taste so vile. Even though he was not particularly appetizing, she’d needed to eat. She never hunted a new lover on an empty stomach. An empty stomach led to bad decisions. She’d picked a few losers in her past when she hunted on an empty stomach.

She had taken extra care in brushing her teeth. She used whitening strips for two weeks to make sure her teeth were as white as marble. Drinking blood had a tendency to stain her teeth yellow. She grumbled at the waste of 50 dollars, but she knew she could not make a stupefying entrance at the art gallery tonight with teeth that made her look like a chain smoker.

This story appears in the "Partner Swap - 20 Erotic Swinging And Swapping Partner Stories" anthology published by Xcite Books. Details are below if you are interested in reading it.

"These stories turn the spotlight well and truly on partner swapping from the first-time ‘virgins’ to the scene to the seasoned, well-versed swingers; from straight husband and wife combos to same sex switching and full-on foursomes.The reader is sensually invited to open their mind to the possibilities and the pleasures . . . Jade Magazine Book Reviews

Have you ever looked at another couple and wondered, what if... ?

Partner Swap delves into the lives of lovers who dare to take the next step.

In Sommer Marsden’s Intrigued an old friendship leads to new loving. A fancy dress party where anything goes is the theme for One Item or Fewer while the mistress is not all she seems in Like a Moth to a Flame.

From best friends who share more than their clothes to couples who seduce innocent bystanders for kicks; these stories are all about flicking the switch on fun and fantasy."

You may buy this book at Amazon and other online retailers. For something a little different, enjoy a little partner swapping with your sharp teeth. 

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Tuesday Tales - The Box

Tuesday Tales
The Box
By Elizabeth Black

Here is my latest Tuesday Tales. The prompt is the picture to the left. To read the rest of the short stories from some fine authors, go to the Tuesday Tales web site.


Lucy found roses by her door. Who sent them? Beneath the bouquet was a note: "Surprise from a secret admirer! Please dress in your best red dress tonight and wait for me to ring you at 7:30 pm."

It was unsigned.

Within the hour she was dressed. Her crimson sheath set off the flame in her cheeks. The thrill of the unknown made her heart race. Who was her secret admirer?

When the bell rang, she took a few deep breaths, and opened the door.

A stranger stood before her. He carried a small red box in both hands.

"Uhm... hello?" She asked, confused.

He gazed at her, and his brows knitted.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment. Is this 242-B Beach Drive? Does Deborah Jacobs live here?" He looked familiar but she couldn't place him.

"No. I've only moved in about a week ago. I've been getting mail for a Deborah Jacobs, but she no longer lives here."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know she moved. We met at a crime book reading downtown and exchanged cards."

"Wait. Which bookstore?"

"Seaside Books downtown."

She smiled. "I own that shop. I booked the reading." She held out her hand. "I'm Lucy McKean. Would you like to come in and have some tea?"

"Thank you," he smiled and walked in. "I remember you from the store. You helped me find some David Goodis books."

"Not many people know about Goodis. I'm a huge fan."

They sat on her couch and talked about crime writers. By midnight, they made a date for dinner. In the end, Deborah Jacobs did Lucy McKean a favor, and Lucy didn't even know the woman. And she was so thrilled she forgot to open the box.